


Out of the Dark

by genova



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Drugs, F/F, Needles, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-14 13:56:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4567077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genova/pseuds/genova
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of "Dark Room" Max Caulfield wakes up under the mercy of Mr. Jefferson. With Victoria by her side Max must find a way out of the bunker, go back in time to save Chloe Price and prevent the destruction of Arcadia Bay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Max

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I am a new author and this is the first piece I've written on archiveofourown.org
> 
> The story will spoil everything up to episode 4 of Life is Strange, so stay away if you haven't played it yet!
> 
> Please comment if you enjoyed reading it, and tell me why you did. Thanks. :P

_The wind bites at my face as I make my way up the hill. A swirling vortex of debris and water crashes into my hometown. I can hear it crushing everything in its wake. The people and places I love. The trees, the animals. Its as if time and space themselves are infuriated by what I have done. And now they want to desolate everything I could have touched. I struggle up to the top, where the lighthouse sits. And when the beacon crashes on to me for the 4th time I don’t flinch: I just let it happen._

...

 

 _ **“Max!”**_

Someone whispers frantically, shaking me awake. I open my eyes into total darkness, the now familiar sound of severe thunder filling my ears. My heart drops down to my toes. This is actually happening.  


“Max, are you awake? Please be awake.” She sobs. When I recognize the voice as Victoria, the last 24 hours return to my mind. Those god-awful pictures, the strobe lights, and…and the bullet through Chloe’s skull. I feel like puking but there’s no food in my stomach.  


“Victoria? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” I whisper back. My throat is dry.  


“Oh thank _god_. I thought you were dead. You’ve been out for hours.” I sit up in the darkness, trying to clear my head. An angry clash of thunder erupts and then it shakes the entire room. Victoria grabs my arm, trembling. I can hear her sobbing again, under a heavy downpour of rain from up above. After a couple minutes she loosens her grip.  


“Sorry.”  


“Its okay"  


“I’m really really scared.”  


“I know. I’m scared too."

"Do you know where we are?"

"No."

...

"What the hell is that storm outside? It sounds like the fucking apocalypse. I heard like 5 trees fall and I--"

We both are interrupted by the sound of a door opening. The harsh noise of the rain raises then goes back down when the door slams shut. I realize who walks in by the sound of his shoes. Those black loafers striding across the ground in a dreadful, monotonous succession.  


One

-

Two

-

One

-

Two

 

Over and over until the rhythm drives you mad.

A ceiling light flickers on, illuminating the entire room. The room which I now realize is the dark room. When my eyes adjust Jefferson is standing over me, soaking wet. There's a pistol in his left hand and I recognize it as the gun he used to kill Chloe. Mr Jefferson is studying me. I cant tell what exactly he's thinking about. Chloe. Me. Victoria. Murdering me and Victoria. Like....Like Rachel Amber. I shiver at that last thought.

Mr. Jefferson scratches his goatee and looks at Victoria. I look over too. She's a mess. Her eyes are puffy and swollen, like she'd been crying for hours. Her hair is completely ruffled. The cardigan she was wearing the other night is torn, there's a little bit of blood on it. Victoria doesn't look up at Mr Jefferson. She just shakes and looks down at her shoes. 

Its quiet.

"Victoria?" I say. I put my hand on her shoulder, and her breathing calms down a little. She brushes her bangs out of her face, and looks at me with her bright blue eyes. She doesn't seem mean or anything. She doesn't look like a bully. In fact, she kind of looks like Kate when I saw her standing on the edge that roof. I force myself to smile at her.

 

"Max" Mr Jefferson finally says. I look up at him. His voice has that same patronizing tone. I narrow my eyes.

"What do you want." I snarl. It hits me again. Chloe falling in slow motion with a bullet through her skull. Laying in a pool of blood. Right next to Rachel Amber.

_when I rewind I'll let chloe do whatever she wants_

He smiles really big at what I said. His creepy thin lips stretched out, displaying 26 perfectly white teeth. 

"Geez Max, you're moody today." He laughs, like we're still in the classroom.

I stay silent and continue to glare at him. Imagining all the things he did to Kate and Rachel and now Victoria. My blood steams, my entire body shakes with rage.

I try to pull myself up, but my head is swimming and my body feels 100 pounds heavier. 

_GET UP MAX_

Panicking, I try to stand up again. But my legs give out under me and I collapse back onto the cold floor. My heart is underwater in dread and everything keeps turning and turning.

I can feel tears coming on, but I hold them back. 

_You can still rewind._

So I extend my arm out in front of me, the past, present, and future running through the circuits of my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut and focus on pushing the world back in time, feeling my memories fly past my fingertips like pushing your hands against water. And as I do this I can hear jumbled sounds of the past inside of my mind. Everything there ever was swirls, like a vortex. But no matter how hard I push and think that world doesn't go back. I'm too weak to focus. I'm too weak. 

_You **cannot** give up Max_

I push harder even though it feels like my head is about to combust. I can feel warm blood drizzling down my nose, but I keep going for Rachel and Kate and Chloe and....

I open my eyes, Victoria is staring at me. She's staring with a look I have never seen on her before. Her eyes gleam with the most genuine kind of concern. The type of concern you show to someone you really really love. 

"Max, you're bleeding." she says quietly. I can barely make out what the words are because my mind is so light and dizzy. But when I look into her terrified eyes, blue like the waves of Arcadia Bay, I'm doing it for Victoria too. So I push harder and harder, my head shaking from exhaustion. 

And I can't do it. I can't reach it. I'm too fucking weak. I can't save Chloe or anyone in this town. She's really really dead. Forever. I can feel warm salty tears welling up in my eyes. _he killed her. and now she'll never be happy. no matter what I do._

And I just let it all rush out of me. The dam breaks. Everything thats been inside of me since Monday morning. Kate jumping, Chloe in front of the train, Chloe in front of the mouth of all those guns. Even I killed her. At least she wanted it that time, but then I had to kill William. There was so much death, but then there wasn't. Those timelines where everything did go wrong, the death and the blood and the screaming. Kate jumping back in time, flying like an angel in the reversing rain. Their deaths still live in me. In my soul. Even though they are no longer real. 

"Why are so many people supposed to die." I whisper under a fit of sobs. Victoria moves towards me and I burrow my head into her shoulder, wrapping my shaking arms around her back. I let go after a while and hug my knees. When I look up again, she's smiling at me, with those same eyes full of concern. And she's smiling a real smile. One that she never shows to anyone. And for some reason, it gives me the strength to stop crying. 

I manage to look at Mr. Jefferson. He grins at me like before. I feel smaller knowing he saw the meltdown I just had. 

"What were you doing there, Max Caulfield?" He jokes, water dripping from his hair. He takes off his glasses and cleans the fog off the lenses. "Telekinesis? Magic? Come on Max, you're a smart girl. Don't you know that I have all the power down here?" I look at him, still dazed from trying to rewind. Rain continues to beat down in the silence. Victoria wipes the blood and tears off of my face with her cashmere sleeve. Mr. Jefferson is right. Whatever he drugged me with is keeping me from using my abilities. I'm completely powerless.

A chill creeps its way under my skin and I realize how invincible I've been these past few days. I've known somewhere deep down inside that the invincibility wasn't forever. But I never expected to lose it in a situation like this. A hopeless situation. I desperately needed it here. Because really bad things happen here, and I can't stop any of it if I'm just the girl I was a week ago. 

_but you're not_

I'm not. 

I can still feel the time sifting around me. I'm still drowning in it. All those Max Caulfields from different timelines. Their memories still pulse inside of me. I'm not anything like who I was before all this, even if I'm no longer a human time machine. I've become a vessel for billions of scenarios and interactions. I'm not just one single thing anymore. 

_I could die here_ I suddenly realized 

_I could die here and then everything I saw and felt and remembered and heard would die with me. I have to live in the present now._

"Max, leave some space between you and Victoria." Victoria and I looked at eachother and simultaneously realized how close we were. Victoria turned pink and I promptly scooted away. I don't know if it was because of the given situation, but being that close to her didn't feel....weird. It felt.. well like I'd done it before? Even though I hadn't. My head throbbed just thinking about it. I ran my hands through my hair and glanced back at her for a second. She was looking too, with an equally confused expression.

We both snapped out of our gazes to the sound of Mr. Jefferson walking away. His loafers clacking on the ground, the clacks echoing off the walls of the bunker. As my eyes followed him, I touched the side of my neck. The skin was hot from the blood pulsing inside, and it beat faster and faster like a man banging on a drum during some primordial ritual. 

"Here's how we're going to do this." He says. He's fiddling with something at a nearby table. I lift my head just enough to see what he's doing. There's a syringe in his hand. He sticks the syringe into a container labeled "hydromorphine" that's filled with some kind of brown liquid. Goosebumps spread across my skin as the brown liquid steadily pumps into the glass tube.

5 Ml

10 Ml

15 Ml

20 Ml. He pulls it out and taps the side with his latex gloved finger. 

And then he starts walking towards Victoria. 

Blood somehow pounds through the valves of my heart even faster. 

"What are you-" I begin to stammer.

But before I finish he jerks Victoria's head up and jabs the needle into the side of Victoria's neck. He does it all in one angry, abrupt motion. I watch completely frozen as the needle plunges into her flesh and the hydromorphine pumps into her body. She has no time to react. No time to scream or gasp or even breathe. It just happens. 

I have no idea what to do as I helplessly stare. She doesn't last more than 10 seconds, before she succumbs to the drugs. And finally, before her conscience falters and tumbles into the darkness, she looks at me. Her eyes screaming "HELP ME. YOU KNOW ME." And in that moment I do know Victoria Chase. And I also know that I can't help her. So I just stare back.

_I can't do anything._

I place my hands over my slackjawed mouth, and just stare at her limp body. 

And I can't do anything as he lifts Victoria's body up to place her in front of the cameras. 

"Max get up." He commands me. 

"No." I beg, tears filling up my eyes again. He drops her, and she flops on the ground like a ragdoll. 

"Please" My voice is trembling. 

_I can't fucking do ANYTHING_

"Don't do this." 

He walks back towards me and I'm a child and he's 8 feet tall. He grabs my arm and yanks me off of the ground. I let out a scream, in some pathetic hope that there's someone out there to hear me.

But I know there's no one. Its just me and him now. I cry a little more, dreading whatever the fuck he wants me to do. He pulls me close to his body, so I can feel his hot dry breath as he talks. I squirm, but he is so much stronger than me. 

"For now on, you are going to do what I tell you when I tell you to do it." His whiskers brush across my face as he holds me against him for a few more moments. I can feel his clothes, drenched in rainwater. He doesn't raise his voice, but each word has a weight to it. He pronounces each syllable with careful, calm, calculating precision.

I nod, looking down at my shoes. I don't want him to see my eyes. I don't want to see his either. 

"okay" I whisper in my smallest voice. He leads me towards the cameras. I can walk now. The drugs have worn off enough.

 

I look onto Victoria. She's totally passed out. Her porcelain legs bend and cross over eachother. Laying on her side, her arms and face lean towards the camera. Messy blond hair strewn across her pale face. Her lashes gently laying over closed eyelids, and her soft pink lips slightly parted. Everytime she takes a breath, her diaphragm expands and her lips open up a little more. I blink. I know I've seen her like this before. No not drugged. Sleeping, peacefully. Images flash in my head of her laying in my bed in another life. Sleeping and laughing right next to me. I remember her warmth. And the smell of lavender in her hair. The humour and life in her eyes when I made some stupid joke. I cock my head. What were we in that timeline?

She looks so tranquil and undisturbed. And kind of beautiful. You find beauty in the strangest places, don't you? But this isn't the Victoria I know. This isn't the girl who makes fun of my polaroids and calls me a lame hipster. This is some drugged, horrified, vulnerable Victoria Chase. This is an entirely different person. And the Victoria Chase that the other me knew, that was a different person too. Something fluttered inside of me despite all the darkness and terror. Even with the storm howling outside and Mark Jefferson standing behind me. It grew and grew and I imagined that if we got out of this, maybe I could see if that connection from another life was in this life too. And everyone I love could be happy. And it all could be right. I smiled at the sunny photograph in my head, all of us on a road trip to Portland. Its the golden hour and Victoria's holding my hand....

I blinked and reminded myself where I was. Mr. Jefferson put his hand on my shoulder and I flinched. 

"Max, I'll say it again. You are a very talented young photographer." 

"Thanks?" I couldn't believe I was having such a friendly conversation with the man who shot Chloe in the head. But I cant think about that right now. 

"As an artist, what do you see here?" He asked me, pointing at Victoria like she was a fucking bowl of fruit. 

"What do I see?"

"Mhm."

"Oh I don't know, Mr. Jefferson. Maybe a 18 year old girl you drugged and kidnapped and brought to a creepy bunker in the middle of no where? What else would I see?"

He stopped for a moment and considered what I had just said. 

"Max, I realize you might be a little 'freaked out'...

_holy shit_

...but when I look at it from without a moral standpoint I for one see a real 'Kodak Moment'!" 

I just stared at him in disbelief. There's no way he actually said that. Maybe I'm being pranked or something. Maybe I don't even have powers, and Chloe is laughing her ass off somewhere in a room watching me from hidden cameras. What the actual fuck. 

"You have such a brilliant eye. Can't you see the beauty in framing a person whose exterior self is completely shattered? A candid shot of them completely naked, without anything to hide who they truly are. Desperation and fear leaving nothing but the rawest form of man: the essence. Frame that Max."

I squinted at him. "You want me to take...pictures of her?"

He nods.

I turn around to look at Victoria again. She's still laying there, completely knocked out and helpless. I think of those twisted pictures of Kate. Sweet innocent Kate. All the pain that she's endured because of what Mr. Jefferson did to her. I cannot do that to another person.

"No. I couldn't. It's so...wrong! Why don't you understand that?"

"Don't think of her as a person under these...circumstances. Think of her as your subject." 

"Is that how you thought about Rachel Amber? When you _killed_ her?"

His face intensified as the room went deathly silent, and that dread came back to my heart. He took off his glasses so I could see his dark grey eyes, which were the color of storm clouds. They were still and soulless in his sockets. The moment went on for a long time with him looking at me with those haunting emotionless voids. Was he feeling anything? Did he ever feel anything? I was some trapped animal, completely petrified and unmoving. Just staring at its own predator. He shoved me backwards and I stumbled, tripping on a lighting wire and falling to the ground. I hit my head hard. Visions of the vortex flashed in my head. 

"If you mention Rachel Amber again, I will have to kill you. And if you don't take the fucking pictures, I'll kill Victoria. And it will be all your fault Max." Blood pounded in my ears, I waited 5 seconds before getting back up. I looked into the viewfinder and found a good shot. Stomach bile rose to my throat as I pressed the shutter. 

The camera flashed.


	2. Victoria

I'm standing behind Max, but I don't think it's the Max I know. Not the one I see everyday. This image of her doesn't belong to my mind, its someone else's Max. It's the Max that doesn't wear Walmart brand jeans, and doesn't let the air dry her hair. But it's not just that. Maybe she's a little bit taller, maybe there's just one more freckle on her nose. I don't what it is, all I know is that she's different. Everything is different.

Even the air tastes a little off, standing here in her dorm room. Her walls have a different shade of beige, and the sky outside her window is a different kind of blue. I look down, scrunching my toes over her floor rug. I watch the fabric squeeze underneath my feet.

There's this feeling I can't shake, that I don't belong here. Like I'm a tumor in someone's body. All those white blood cells are about to devour me because this isn't my world and it's not supposed to be. 

But that's stupid. That's paranoid.

Max doesn't notice me standing behind her, she just keeps her eyes glued to the monitor which is on twitter of all things. She has over 3,000 followers. That doesn't make sense either.

"Max?" I decide to say, as my heart thumps. My voice cracks at the A. 

She doesn't respond at all, which usually would infuriate me. But everything feels too...off. So instead I stand there, tapping my foot, waiting for her to notice my presence. But she doesn't.

When I get tired of her ignoring me, I reach out to grab her shoulder. I'm hoping to grab something solid and real. I want to feel her bony shoulder wrapped in my palm. But to my surprise that doesn't happen. Instead when I reach for her body, it slips out of my fingers and my hand falls through her arm. Like I'm a ghost.

"THE FUCK" I yell yanking my hand back. Max doesn't react at all, once again. Except she shivers like she's cold. But that doesn't make sense because its must be 70 degrees in here. 

Before I can process what the hell is going on someone darts into the room. 

"Maxine!" .

I jump to her voice, because its _my_ voice. The source of it dashes towards "Maxine" and wraps _my arms_ around her from behind. And that's when I realized I had to dreaming. Lucid dreaming.

I mean she looks exactly like me. The exact hue of blue in her eyes, the identical shade of platinum blonde hair. A doppelgänger of myself, except....she's friends with Max?

Maxine turns her head and smiles warmly. I'm so damn clingy running my hands through her hair and talking in a sing song voice. Jesus Christ. And that fucking goofy smile on my face. 

"You look like you're high!" I try to tell myself. Ignoring the fact I'm in a dream where no one can hear me because....well. I don't know why no one can hear me. After letting out a deep sigh, I inspect my arm. My entire body is partially transparent and glowing. I groan at the situation and cross my transparent arms, leaning against the wall of Max's dorm. 

I always have the stupidest dreams. Why can't I have sex dreams about Mr. Jefferson or like my destiny or something. Instead I get one about what? Dying and becoming a lesbian in my next life, and then I have to watch myself be a gay dork for all of eternity? Sounds like a shitty lifetime movie. 

"Hey Vic" Max replies spinning the rolly chair around. The other me bends her legs a little so she can place her hands on top of Max's knees. I still have that toothy grin on my face, looking into Max's doe eyes. My cheeks are even red. I look like a fucking crazy person. Ugh. why am I blushing. At least this version of Max isn't a total homebody. But she's still _way_ out of my league..

I gently cock my head and squint my eyes, giving this Victoria the up-down. Actually, I take that back. This me does look a little different. Her skin isn't as pale and there's no bags under her eyes. I don't have the bitch resting face everyone says I have. But there's something else...

I study myself one more time: me, with the heart eyes and the blood flowing to my cheeks. It hits me.

The difference is that I'm happy. 

"Maxine lets take some shots at the beach and then get some breakfast at two whales and then maybe we can smoke a bowl with Nate or we could--you know what?! It doesn't matter lets just do something together!!" I say tugging at Max's arm, my mouth moving at 60 miles per hour.

"Alright! Alright! let me just refill the film cart and we'll go, okay?" 

I smile a little, _she's still such a nerd._

The dream ends with other me running down the dorm hallway, clutching Max's arm as she's being pulled along. 

I watch and listen as the sound of my laughter, the sight of Max's brown hair, and the feeling of my happiness fades away. I hear my own giggles echo off the walls as I stand there looking down the hallway. Longing for something.

I can feel myself frowning as everything fades to black. 

\--

\--

\--

For 10 seconds, I'm just laying in my bed. Thinking about midterms, and Nathan, and that dream with _Max._

But then I realize how cold I am so I reach for my blanket. And there's nothing there. In fact, I'm not even in a bed. 

I sit up in anger, thinking I blacked out at a vortex club party. But then it evolves into fear when I hear her sobbing a few feet away. Reality comes crashing back into me, like when you were a kid swimming in the ocean. When a huge wave sent you tumbling back to the shore. And the rush was so fast and rough, that for a second there you thought you would die. 

That's what I felt like being there on the floor. Hazy from the drugs and half naked.

It all would return to me in a single motion. I pictured Mr. Jefferson's blank face as he jabbed the needle inside of my body, the thunder filling the air. Blood drizzling down Max's face, and the lack of hope she had in her blue eyes. I sat there, awake in the inky darkness for the 2nd time. Realizing once again that this was real: this was happening.

I replayed the events from the night before in my head.

\--

I'd won the everyday heroes contest, and of course I was ecstatic. Mark wanted to go out for dinner to discuss the trip to California. How could I turn him down? 

So I was sitting in the front seat, imagining him and I in Los Angeles. 

Mark was getting something out of the trunk of his car and I started babbling about god knows what. It all seems so stupid now. The next thing I can recall is a rag being shoved in my face from behind. And then the last 6 things were:

1\. Max driving off with that girl. Blue hair. Piece of shit truck.

2\. Mr. Jefferson's face in the side mirror.

3\. Nathan sprinting towards the car and yelling, looking at me with terror in his eyes.

4\. 2 gunshots 

5\. One scream that belonged to my best friend.

6\. Darkness. 

I laid back down, holding my face with the palm of my hand.

How could I have been so fucking naive. Mark Jefferson. The man was 20 years my senior, and I'd been flirting with him for the past 3 months. Why didn't I see it? He was sleeping with Rachel Amber for fucks sake. The girl who vanished under mysterious circumstances. The girl who Nathan would cry about during his meltdowns.

_Nathan._

I covered my mouth and took a deep breath. I've known Nate for longer than I can remember. He's a Prescott. There's no way Mr Jefferson could have just killed him like that. Everyone in Arcadia Bay knows that if you touch that family you might as well start digging your own grave. I shook my head and blocked out the picture of Nathan. Bleeding out on the parking lot concrete. Alone. 

_he just got scared for me thats why he screamed_

yes yes yes. Nathan was trying to save me. So he must have understood what was going on. And that's how he's going to rescue me. He knows about everything. This place. Rachel Amber. Kate. Jefferson. This is everything he was keeping from me. Everything that Max knew somehow.

_Max._

How the fuck _did_ she know? 

Something weird has been going on with her. I can tell she knows things I don't by the way she looks at me. Ever since Monday and the paint can incident. The way she would stare at me as if I was made of glass. Like she was looking right through the facade I'd been building for myself over the years. She was seeing farther behind the bitch that is Victoria Chase. Before Highschool and all this shit.

I am a bitch. I am such a horrible horrible person. I almost caused Kate to kill herself because of a video I created. She was drugged during the party, and I knew that. And I could stopped it too. I really could have. But all I did was practically shove her up to that roof. Letting every mean thought mindlessly slither out of my mouth, as she was dying from the inside out. Why do I do that?

When I called her on the phone I wanted her to yell and scream and call me names. But she was just Kate. Sweet and kind as always. Thanking me for that stupid little postcard, like it changed anything I did. How could she forgive me after all of this? After who I was to her.

I think I saw it in her eyes before it all happened. On Tuesday morning there was something deep and hopeless in her before she left the showers. Something broken and deprived of happiness. Something dead. But I just kept tormenting her. Like it was an impulse.

After I hung up I sat down on my bed and cried for a long time. 

That's what it felt like when Max looked at me. She wasn't seeing Blackwell me, but Victoria: the girl who sits alone in her room late into the night sobbing under her covers.

At first it just pissed me off, feeling her uncomfortably close to my soul. Talking to me over the music at the party, the weird energy in her pupils as she looked into my eyes. Like she could see everything and anything. But now I don't know. 

Especially after that dream.

It's still so clear and cold in my mind. More like a window than anything. A window looking into a different version of myself. A happier me. I wish I could have stayed there wherever it is. I want to be that kind of happy.

\--

I stop thinking, something was moving towards me.

I whispered her name into the black, in a voice so weak that I didn't recognize at first.

"Maxine?" I didn't mean to say her dream name, but it did feel right in some faraway part of my mind. I liked the way it sounded. How I had to use every part of my mouth to fully pronounce it. "Ma-xi-ne" I mouthed under my breath. My tone matched the other Victoria Chase's voice perfectly. I smiled a little. 

I could sense her confusion in the silence, but then she began to quietly cry again. My heart squeezed in pity, and I wanted to reach out and hug her. But I didn't know where she was.

"Victoria..."

She sobbed, choking on her words.

"I'm so sorry. He said he would kill you, I didn't know what to do..."

"Max what are you talking about?"

Max cried even harder, but then forced herself to quiet down. Her voice lowered to an even softer whisper. 

"He made me take pictures."

There's not many times in my life where I don't have anything to say. Where my mind completely goes blank, and for a few moments I am without thoughts. There's always been a little storm of cognition in my head, even when I was little.

But when I made the connection. Why I was under a light. Why I was in my bra and underwear. Why Max was whispering with guilt in her voice. When all the pieces came together everything inside of myself completely stopped.

And I was very very cold.

You never expect these kinds of things. You might have a plan in your head for those abduction scenarios you see in crime shows. I always did. Elbow between the eyes, knee in the balls, blow a rape whistle, pepper spray. You get the idea.

But I never imagined anything like this. I pictured a guy putting something in my drink, a white van on the side of the road. Not this crazy cold case files shit. Not one of my heroes. Why didn't those TV shows tell you your fucking hero could kidnap you? And do this to you? 

Is this how these things happened to _those_ women? 

...

_yes it is ___

__I guess that's who I am now. That girl kidnapped for 30 years by some inconspicuous man, loved by his community. I was breathing the cold underground air they had breathed. I was feeling the concrete floor on my bare skin. I was living something that never seemed alive in my mind._ _

__Years from now this would be uncovered on the news. Pictures of my unconscious body plastered all over national TV. Victoria Meribeth Chase, 19, single heir of the Chase family, tragic victim of a huge conspiracy. Not "Victoria Chase" iconic celebrity photographer. Just the girl who died too young, because of the man who would never pay._ _

___god_ _ _

__It was all too disturbingly clear._ _

__But I wasn't afraid. I was just indifferent to the situation. Conscious of what was happening and trying to figure out how to feel._ _

__It was like the rivers of thought in my mind had frozen, the flow had stopped moving, and I was completely still._ _

__"Oh" I finally replied. Looking away at anything in the room._ _

__Lightning crackled, the sound somehow sharp like broken glass but rich like a drum. Rain monotonously beat down above us. Thinking about it, I couldn't recall a time when I was down here and it wasn't raining. It must be flooding outside by now. How was Nathan going to save us? How was anybody going to save us?_ _

__"Victoria there's something really bad happening and I think I can get us out of it, but I need your help." Max whispered, her voice barely audible but full of intensity._ _

__"Okay"_ _

__"I got dosed a while ago, but he's running out of drugs. He thinks I'm knocked out, so we need to be really, really quiet."_ _

__I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I pictured the state she had been in while I was out. Arms and legs bound with duct tape, laying wide awake on the ground. She must have been lucid for hours, terrified that I wouldn't wake up._ _

__"Oh god Max. Oh god what are we going to do?" I asked her, shaking from terror._ _

__"I need you to listen to me very carefully. Right now Mr. Jefferson is behind that wall next to us."_ _

__I squinted my eyes into the fuzzy darkness, and made out the structure. There was light spilling from the area Max described. I took a deep breath._ _

__"When he comes back," She began._ _

__he's going to try drugging you again. When he does you have to do everything you can to stop him. Shove him, hit him, yell, kick, it doesn't matter. When you get him off of you, untie my hands. And then everything will be okay."_ _

__Suddenly she wrapped her hand around my arm, and I stopped shaking. Her skin was comfortably warm even down here in the cold. A new kind of chill spread over my body._ _

__"Victoria?"_ _

__Her voice was so close, I could feel it in my ear. The sound of her breathing calmed down my nerves. But only enough._ _

__"Victoria, do you understand?"_ _

__I squeezed her arm back, because I was too afraid to speak. I think she understood._ _

__So we waited there silently, breathing in the cold stale air of the bunker. I couldn't imagine what Max could do, but I could imagine all the things that could go wrong. Still, I trust her. Why do I trust her?_ _

__After a while, it seemed like the air was becoming more and more devoid of oxygen. Each breath became more and more painful the harder my blood pounded. Like the air was hammering against my chest everytime I sucked in. I felt like I was suffocating on the despair in the room. My stomach throbbed with hunger and the temperature crawled over my bare skin. I had to bite my hand to keep my teeth from chattering._ _

__How could it be so cold?_ _

__Soon I was hearing his footsteps again. My ears were particularly sensitive to the sound and I could feel his presence moving closer and closer, away from the room behind the wall._ _

__Goosebumps speckled my skin as I felt him circling around us. It's weird how you can listen to someone, and know their exact position. Even when you can't see them. Knowing that someone is incredibly close to you, without looking at their face. When he would get especially close to us, that familiar fear would pump back into my body. That pure, dark, terribly rational and hopeless fear. Jolts of it would electrocute me everytime I thought too hard about what was happening._ _

__I had this horrible thought in my mind that when the light switch flicked on he would see us. And he would immediately know we weren't passed out. Mr. Jefferson knows what people look like. He's taken 1000s of candid shots of all kinds of people. Why wouldn't he be able to tell me apart from an sleeping person?_ _

__I heard the the switch flip on, and light pooled through my eyelids. I laid at limply as possible, as he came closer and closer, fighting the instinct to tremble. Mr. Jefferson walked around us in such a menacing, casual pace. The stride had no urgency or direction in it, like he was taking a walk on the beach, like he was confident in what he was doing and he didn't feel the need to rush._ _

__The footsteps walked a foot away from me and then stopped. I felt a body lowering towards me in the cold empty air. He paused again._ _

__I hated him for making me feel this way. For bringing me on the verge of tears but at the same time frightening me so much that I couldn't cry._ _

__My skin began to warm and develop a thin layer of sweat. I bit my cheek so hard that I could taste drops of blood. A ragged breath came out of my mouth that was a little too loud for sleeping person._ _

__Rained continued to beat down._ _

__I felt his cold gloved fingers holding my neck in place. The side of it throbbed from the first needle. A drop of water fell from the ceiling._ _

__And when the cold drop of water fell on my forehead, my mind went quiet again. And then all those emotions of fear and misery collectively transformed into the heaviest, purest, most primal from of rage I have ever felt._ _

__My eyelids flipped open. Mr. Jefferson stood over me, syringe in his left hand. The tips of his hair dripped with rainwater, and his glasses fogged up. I traced my eyes over the creases and rifts in his pasty face. I closed my eyes and pushed as hard as I could._ _

__The next second he was wobbling off of me and regaining his balance. I'm using all the energy in my body to stand up._ _

__And I did, as my head spun with a mixture of rage and dizziness. I focused on him. Standing there slightly stunned. Neither of us move._ _

__He rustled for something in his back pocket and retrieved a metal and shiny object_ _

__I charged at him as he tinkered with the thing. I don't realize what it is until he points it at my heart, but I lunge and spike it out of his hand a second before he pulls the trigger. The gun ricochets off the wall and finally drops to the floor making a metallic clacking sound._ _

__As the sound echoes through the bunker, we stand there. Looking at eachother. Then the gun. Then eachother. Thunder rumbles from up above, the whistle of a vortex on top of us. But in this moment, it doesn't matter. Nothing matters._ _

__After a full moment of shock we both dive for the gun. I scrape my legs on the concrete and snatch the gun in my hands, gasping for air and scrambling to get off the floor._ _

__With the revolver gripped in my trembling hands I back away slowly, eyes locked on his face. There's blood running down my shins. I don't feel the pain and I don't look down._ _

__The shadows of the bunker emphasize Mr. Jefferson's gaunt cheekbones. His glasses are cracked on the side. Dress shirt wrinkled from the wetness of the storm. Oh god he wore that shirt in the bookstore. When I was 15. When I wanted his autograph and I wanted to be just like him. And now he's going to kill me._ _

__He stares back the way a statue does. A lifeless, unblinking, impenetrable stare that doesn't love anyone and doesn't fear anything. And all I can do is stare back into it, as he walks me into a corner._ _

__My spark of rage had long since worn off. I shuffle backwards, holding a scream in the back of my throat as the storm continues to roar outside. It's quieter now, like a dying beast._ _

__There's nothing I can do as he steadily walks towards me. There's no one but me and him, there's no one else there's no other option. All I can do is walk and walk and walk and walk until my back hits a wall and my life officially ends._ _

__But I never do. Instead I forget something crucial. I forget about that girl with the Polaroid camera and her faded tshirts. I forget that her tears and her touch are the reasons why I'm doing this. And because I forget, I trip over her body. And I collapse to the ground, banging my head on the wall in the process._ _

__When I open my eyes I'm on the floor and Mr Jefferson is to the tips of my feet. Fear returned to my eyes in the form of tears. My mind is light and dizzy. My body is strewn all over the ground._ _

__But the revolver remained clutched in my clammy hands. And I pointed it at his chest, my entire body shaking like a rabbit._ _

__" _Victoria!_ " Max yelled. Her voice didn't sound real, it was like an echo in a far off place. My head buzzed._ _

__I looked at her deliriously, she nodded. Motioning me to proceed._ _

__I turned back at Mr Jefferson, he was so close to me._ _

__"Give me the gun, I'm not going to hurt you"_ _

__"No! Do not give him the gun. He's going to kill us Victoria. He murdered Rachel and...and Chloe. And he's going to kill us too if you give him the gun."_ _

__Mr. Jefferson stepped directly in front of me and bent down to take it._ _

__I shuddered, and then I couldn't move. My mind stopped suddenly. I was petrified of killing him and petrified of him being alive._ _

__"SHOOT HIM" Max shrieked, snapping me out of whatever state I was in._ _

__It was all or nothing when I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the trigger. A polarizing gunshot sounded as I turned away._ _


End file.
